


Anaphora in Place of Love

by Kiyara_Iris



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Pining, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 20:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyara_Iris/pseuds/Kiyara_Iris
Summary: “Is Nursey in love?” He hadn’t really meant to ask it, more like surprise in the revelation pushed it up out of his throat. But at the way Chowder’s head snapped up, Dex felt he’d hit the nail square on. His chest tightened. “Don’t answer that.”Nursey publishes a poem and Dex comes to some realizations.





	Anaphora in Place of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Short fluffy piece as I attempt to finish up longer projects and not sob hysterically as I simply start more pieces instead of finishing any.  
> Enjoy ^_^

               Dex vaguely noticed Chowder sliding into his dorm room, as was usual for their Sunday study sessions. Less easy to ignore was the faint bouncing of Chow’s foot as he sat on the edge of the desk chair. Dex glanced up, completely ignoring his coding once he took in the hesitant - worried? - expression on his friend’s face.

               “What’s up? You have a fight with Farmer?” Chowder looked surprised.

               “No! Not at all, we’re fine. It’s uh…Nursey--um…” Dex sighed, saving his current assignment and setting his laptop aside.

               “Alright, what did Mr.-I-can-handle-any-situation-by-being-more-chill do now? Accidently ask a girl to marry him for an assignment? Spill his lunch on a LAX bro? Trip into the pond again?” Chowder gave a brief, high shrill of laughter. Dex stared. Chowder coughed forcefully, shaking his head.

               “No, he um, published a poem in The Eye.” The Eye was the platform for the arts at Samwell, mostly visual and written works. The standards weren’t unreasonably high, they enjoyed all styles and supported the people brave enough to put their work in the hands of the public. Dex knew that Nursey had published a few things -long rambling poems Dex couldn’t really understand-so he didn’t get where this scattered, almost-fear from Chowder was coming.

               “Ok. Cool. Is it…like, bad?”

               “No! It’s, it’s really good. I just, um, have you read it?” Dex rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to pay the twenty dollars for an updated version of the publication each semester. If there was something worth seeing, Nursey usually shoved it under his nose anyway.

               “Nope, musta let my subscription run out.” Chowder giggled, but there was still something strained there. He took pulled a spiral bound book from his bag and held it out.

               “Page 42.” Dex took it without preamble. Better to get it over with. He found the poem that was apparently making Chow all flustered and was immediately surprised- it was only a few lines. Across from it was a page of orange and red splotches, some kind of abstract piece of water-colored sunset so reminiscent of watching days melt into nights from his Uncle’s boat that it made warmth slide down his throat. He started reading.

  

Anaphora is my Love

               Orange—a leaf’s true color, crisping beneath my feet. 

               Orange—the sun, warmth breaking unknowingly upon my skin.

               Orange---my fernweh delight, thrilling secret in my heart.

               Give me orange days and orange nights,

               Orange ephemera spread across milky, somnolent dreams. 

               Orange, tangerine, pumpkin, ginger, sunsets, carrot, cinnamon, caramel, candy corn--

                             Take a breath.

                              Swallow this fire.

                              Chill.

 

               Dex snorted as he read the last word, creased his eyebrows and read the whole thing again. He was used to feeling a little dumb when reading poetry, especially Nursey’s that liked to mix romantic history with current politics and whatever G&S subject Shitty was expounding upon that week. But this—the entire thing screamed of one thing: longing. He glanced up at Chowder, who was watching him raptly.

               “Um--” He cleared his throat. “It’s good?” Chowder huffed, crossing his arms.

               “ _And_?” Dex scrambled around in his mind. He felt like he had last semester, when he’d walked into his Chemistry class after an intense roadie with no studying, and the teacher had called on him to give the moles for 6 liters of hydrogen.

               “It’s about…longing?” Chowder stared at him incredulously for a few moments before whipping out his phone and furiously texting. Dex felt himself shrink a little, like he’d completely bombed a test and looked back down at the poem, reading it one more time. He took out his own phone and grudgingly looked up fernweh, as well as ephemera and somnolent, but paused in his parsing of anaphora:

               ‘a rhetorical device that consists of repeating a sequence of words at the beginnings of neighboring clauses, thereby lending them emphasis’.

               He glanced at the title and with a flip of his brain, replaced the word ‘orange’ with ‘love’ and reread the poem yet again with new understanding. And yeah. It was still infuriatingly…nice and very much about longing.

               “Is Nursey in love?” He hadn’t really meant to ask it, more like surprise in the revelation pushed it up out of his throat. But at the way Chowder’s head snapped up, Dex felt he’d hit the nail square on. His chest tightened. “Don’t answer that.”

               He sighed, running a hand forcefully through his hair, the pain grounding him enough not to spiral into forbidden territory. Nursey was allowed to be in love. God, it would make everything, just, easier if he were. Whatever stupid, unwelcome feeling that bloomed in his chest whenever he saw his infuriating D-partner would be crushed under the heel of Nursey being-

               Dex’s chest filled with a sickening ache. He coughed, allowing himself the courtesy of compartmentalizing his current freak out and badger Chowder off his phone and into a mostly successful study session distraction.

 

 

               Dex was obsessing.

               Chowder had left the newest copy of The Eye in his dorm and he’d lasted all of 2 hours after the other boy had left before thumbing back to page 42 and reading Nursey’s poem again. Then again. It hadn’t helped parse out who Nursey had written about, unless it wasn’t about a person at all. With the colors and leaves, maybe it was a metaphor for Autumn or something hipster like that--which Dex wouldn’t put it past Nursey to wax drippy poetic verse over a season. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed likely that it was something silly and stupid like that. Honestly, why had Dex first considered that he was writing about a person at all? Just because Dex was—

               No.

               He snapped the book shut, staring sightlessly at the blank wall across from his bed. There was no way---he wasn’t…Nursey was, a pain in the ass, he was…a city-slick, ignorant snob of a hipster that took his looks and money for granted and twirled people around his fingers and…

               Guilt immediately stabbed Dex from all angles and he grimaced. Nursey was none of those things. Well, he was rich and he was undeniably good looking--, but he was also the type of kind that would hold Chowder close when they watched scary movies and told him when to look away from the gory parts, strong enough to be checked into the boards and still be grinning when he got back up, he was the friend Dex had always secretly yearned for: one that would put up with his grouchiness, wanted to be around him, wanted to share themselves with him despite how much he instinctively pushed them away.

               He liked Nursey. He-fuck, he loved Nursey. The realization settled around him like soft snow drifts, burying him in weightless mounds that slowly turned crushing as they mounted. Memories of touches over breakfast, conversations at midnight in the reading room, shoulders pushing together on bus rides, cellys on the ice, Nursey dancing at Haus parties, Nursey telling Dex he looked good in green flannel, Nursey’s eyes, Nursey’s hands--Nursey…

               He jumped at the knock on his door, the book clattering to the ground. He reached for it, but thought of the poem and suddenly, achingly wanted it to be about _him_ , that he simply left it there as he got up to answer the door. If he’d been thinking, if he’d not been spinning wildly within the magnitude of being in love with his best friend, he might have asked who it was, might have had time to brace himself.

               As it was, when he opened the door to a smirking, perfectly put-together Derek Nurse, Dex’s entire world froze. His heart beat rabbit fast, pumping blood quickly through his cheeks, but he could only stare. Nursey looked at him, wide-eyed, for a moment before his entire body seemed to droop, his face shuttering closed.

               “Hey Poindexter. Uh, Chowder said he left my copy of The Eye with you?” Dex nodded mechanically, moving quickly back into his room to give him something to do other than look at Nurse. He picked the book up off the floor and held it out vaguely in the direction he could see Nursey standing in his peripheral. He heard the other boy sigh, the weight of the book suddenly gone from his hand. The rasp of a backpack zipper opening then shutting sounded like gunfire in the silence, but Dex’s mind was a yawning blank. There was more movement, like Nurse was turning to leave.

               “See ya Poin-”

               “I liked your poem.” Dex full body cringed, reaching out to grip his hands into the wooden chair at his desk. Silence stretched between them in such an awkward cadence Dex wished the ground was carnivorous and would swallow him right down.

               “Thanks man.” Nursey sounded genuinely happy, but guarded. It was involuntary, when Dex glanced at him, but then he couldn’t look away. There was a small smile playing around Nursey’s lips and Dex’s eyes lingered there longer than he knew was normal for bros. He swallowed thickly.

               “I-I don’t really get poetry, you know. But I liked the imagery.” Nursey turned on his full, delighted grin and-yeah, Dex felt the weight of his thoughts melting.

               “Glad I got the Poindexter seal of approval.” And Nursey fucking _winked_ , turning to go again.

               “You should tell them.” Dex clamped his teeth around his lips, groaning in embarrassment. What the fuck was wrong with him? Nursey turned slowly back, but Dex couldn’t make his eyes lift further than the other boy’s chest.

               “What?” Nursey’s voice was light and lilting, but there was a shaking that hinted he knew exactly was Dex was talking about.

               “The person you wrote that poem for. I think-they’d like to know.” He gripped the chair a little harder, terrified to say the next thing he wanted to, but if there was one thing he—loved about Nursey, it was how easily he forgave others their transgressions. He clung to the thought. “I know I would.”

               That was it. The last of his bravery. Dex squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, hoping that Nursey would just take this as it was and never mention-

               Fingers brushed over his face and Dex about jumped out of his skin, eye startled open to see Nursey close and intense for only a moment, before they were closing again because Nursey’s lips were against his and Dex ceased to function. Nursey pulled back, biting at a grin.

               “Dex, man, you ok?” He nodded mindlessly, staring at the place his mouth had just been touching.

               “I think I broke.” God, his voice was a fucking menace today. Nursey chuckled, pulling Dex away from the chair, pressing their bodies closer together.

               “Want me to restart you? I feel like I could write a poem about that too.” It took a moment for Dex to find the meaning in that statement, distracted by Nursey leaning their foreheads together, noses brushing together in soft heat.

               “Then, the other one was…”

               “About you, yeah.” Dex shivered as Nursey kissed the side of his mouth. “I kind of write about you a lot.” Something moved hot and sure through Dex’s body at that admission and this time, he was the one to lean in and press into Nursey’s mouth, reveling in the surrender he found there.

               They stood for a long time, exchanging gentle, exploratory kisses before Nursey finally pulled away.

               “Dex I really like you-”

               “I orange you!” Nursey’s eyes went wide and Dex fought down the tidal wave of horror trying to sweep him under. “I’m, fuck-sorry. I’m…not good with words.” Nursey laughed and Dex could feel the way it moved through his body with how close together they were. Nursey bussed their noses, running his large hands up and down Dex’s back, and he let himself be soothed by Nursey’s calm and obvious enjoyment in the closeness.

               “I think you’re perfect. And in case it wasn’t obvious, I orange you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Eye is actually a literary journal at my old college, I always enjoyed the name and the acceptance. So thank NHTI for the idea ^_^  
> Fernweh- wanderlust  
> Ephemera- something enjoyed or having existed only for a short period  
> Somnolent- cool synonym for sleepy/drowsy


End file.
